Not Without A Fight
Annaleise Marie

Round Eighteen

AN: Miss me? Sorry, I was in hiding after that last chapter. What must you have thought of me?

A note on this chapter: I realized, when I thought about writing the first part, that I would finally have to give Emmett's mom a real name, instead of just 'Emmett's mom' or 'Ms. McCarty'. After talking it over with Nachos4Children, I have decided that Esme is Emmett's mom. So yeah. That's what that's about.

If you're under eighteen, please do not admit to reading the last part of this chapter. Kay? Great.

Moving steadily onward, I own a shiny new Nissan Versa – love itttt – but I don't now, nor have I ever, nor will I ever, own Twilight. That is, and – god willing – always will be, Stephenie Meyer's problem. I just like playing with the characters. :D

/

3rdPOV

Esme paced the hall nervously, glancing every few minutes between the front door and the clock on the living room wall. Carlisle would be there any minute, and she had to find some way to talk to him about this. She had had these conversations before; contrary to what Emmett believed, she had not been celibate in the years since her husband had died. But she had never been quite so interested in any of them before, either. Something with Carlisle had just clicked, had just felt right.

But despite all of that, she had to admit that Emmett had been right, to an extent, no matter how out of line he had been. She wasn't done mourning her late husband. And that wasn't fair to Carlisle. He deserved to find someone who could give themselves to him completely, not someone who still had half their heart reserved for the memory of a dead man.

Five minutes sooner than she had really expected, she heard tires on the driveway and faltered for a minute. Should she meet him at the door? Should she wait for him to ring the bell? Too eager? Too unconcerned?

Before she had much time to mull it over, though, Emmett came bursting through the door, causing her to start a bit. She hadn't been expecting him home so early. The matches were supposed to go on for another hour, at least, and then for him to go out with his friends or the team afterwards. She and Carlisle had both missed going to watch Emmett and Edward to have this conversation privately.

"Emmett?" she asked, catching sight of his face as he passed her. "What's wrong?" He turned back from the stairs to face her, opened his mouth, shut it again, and shook his head. "Did something happen?" What had happened to them, she wondered. Since moving to this place, it seemed like it had been just one thing after another.

"I… wrestled Royce. Just now," he said. He seemed jumpy, and Esme wrinkled her brow in thought. That was strange. Not that he had wrestled Royce; she could believe they were in the same weight class, although Emmett looked bulkier. But something seemed off.

"Well… did you lose?" she asked when he didn't continue.

"No," Emmett said with a hoarse laugh. "Well, yeah, technically. I was disqualified, so I guess technically I lost."

"Why were you disqualified?" Esme asked, glancing at the clock. Carlisle was late. That was odd, as well. Maybe it was just a strange day. Something, call it mother's intuition, told her otherwise.

"I kind of… beat Royce up," Emmett said hesitantly. Esme gaped at him. What… "I mean, I planned to, honestly, but then he started saying shit about Rosalie and it just kind of… it got worse than I planned. I might be suspended."

Suspended. Emmett had never been suspended before. Esme had had a lot of trouble with Emmett over the years – he was a good kid, but well, a little hard to keep in check from time to time – but normally it was things that she could handle herself. Things like calming the angry parents of girls in the neighbourhood, paying for small property damages, taking him to the hospital after he had done something in typical stupid teenager fashion. The school had never been involved, and the police had never been involved. Would police be involved?

"How bad is it? Do I need to get a lawyer? Are you going to be arrested?" she asked. He shook his head mutely. Distantly, Esme heard Carlisle pull into the driveway. This would have to be dealt with later. "Go up to your room for a bit. We'll talk about this more later."

Emmett nodded, disappearing up the stairs just as the doorbell rang. Esme took a deep breath, smoothing her hair and clothes nervously. She knew she looked fine, but she felt flustered, mussed, from the news she had just received.

She opened the door and stood aside to let Carlisle in, shutting the door softly behind him. He greeted her, leaning in to kiss her briefly before she pulled away, motioning towards the living room.

"Would you like something to drink?" she asked. "Coffee, tea, water?" Carlisle shook his head, and with nothing left to delay the conversation, she felt at a loss for words. "How are you?" she asked. It sounded stupid, even to her.

"Better than I think I'm going to be in a few minutes," Carlisle said quietly. "How are you?"

"Emmett got into a fight," she said.

"That doesn't really sound like Emmett," he replied. She shook her head.

"No," she agreed. "Actually, we've both been acting a little strange since we came here."

"Really," Carlisle said. It wasn't a question, more just a word to fill the pause, a way to stay a part of the conversation.

"This thing with you and I," she started, willing her voice to stay strong. "I don't do this. Losing Dale was really hard, and with Emmett and just, everything in my life, I haven't been able to move past it. I care about you, Carlisle. I hope you believe that. But –"

"But, this is it," Carlisle broke in. "This," he motioned between the two of them, "is over."

"I'm sorry," Esme said, her voice wavering. "But it's not fair, to be in this with you if I can't be all in it. You deserve so much more than someone still in love with a ghost. You deserve someone who can love you with everything they have."

"I'd be a fool if I hadn't realized that you'd always be in love with your late husband," Carlisle said evenly. "But you're a bigger fool if you think that you only have room to love one person in your life, or that you love someone any less for also loving someone else. I'll always love Edward's mother, after all."

He stood, making his way to the door.

"When you realize that you're not shorting someone by doing that, come find me," he said.

"We're moving," Esme said, her voice breaking. "In June."

"That's okay. I'll still be here then." Carlisle stopped at the door, looking back at her. "I do love you, for what it's worth. And I hope that one day, you do come find me."

And then he was gone. Esme blinked back tears. That hadn't gone as she had planned. His response had made it so much harder. But she had other things to worry about. She was a mother, first, and right now, no matter what had happened, her son obviously need her.

/

RPOV

"You did what?" Jasper asked, racing to the window and looking out at the McCarty's driveway. He let out a low whistle. "Damn. How did you even do that?"

"I was mad. He said things that just… really never should have been said," I answered.

"So did you," Alice chimed in. I had already recounted the story to her and Bella. "Really, Rosalie, comparing Emmett to Royce?"

"You compared Emmett to Royce?" Jasper asked disbelievingly. "Well, shit, Rosalie, I would've snapped at you, too."

"Regardless of why he did it, violence is still not the way to solve anything. The Royce issue had been resolved, it was over. And then he goes and beats the shit out of him. That doesn't solve anything. That's something Royce would do."

"You don't get it, Rose," Jasper sighed, flopping down onto the couch beside Alice. "Guys thinking patterns haven't really changed since the stone age. I get that women aren't property, so save that. But you're his. That's just how it is. And Royce messed with what's his. So Royce had to pay. It's completely different than what Royce did. And then you tell him he's just like him. See, Emmett, by very instinct, was protecting you. Royce was hurting you. So you see why that just… made him snap?"

I turned my attention to Alice, who was looking thoughtful. After a second she seemed to snap out of it.

"So you both said things you didn't mean, and maybe Emmett should've just let the Royce issue rest, but you shouldn't have broken his windshield, either. But is it really something you guys can't get past?"

"Why do you always make things sound so simple?" I groaned. It wasn't that simple. No matter what, I would always remember what Emmett had said, how he had acted.

"Because they are. You two just way overcomplicate things," Alice said, waving her hand dismissively.

"I broke his windshield."

"So fix it."

"I don't do glass, Alice."

"No, but you know people who do. Isn't this worth a favour?" she asked. I groaned. Owing those people a favour wasn't quite the same as owing anyone else. But I guess Alice was right. At the very least, I should fix his windshield, anyway. No matter how everything worked out.

"Fine," I said, pulling out my phone.

/

EPOV

I was tired. Three hours later, I had finished recounting the story to Mom from the very beginning – the first day here, when Royce had shown up at Rosalie's house – all the way up to today, editing certain parts heavily because well, she's my mom, and there are things a mom should just never know.

She didn't say much when I was done, just nodded, agreed to wait until tomorrow to talk about it, told me that regardless of what had led to it, violence was never the answer, and that I would be punished for getting suspended, and then went to her room.

As glad as I was that that whole conversation was over, the silence gave me too much time to think about what had happened after the match. Rosalie's ring was still in my pocket, and I was painfully aware of it. I'd have to get my windshield fixed, as well. I hadn't told Mom about that yet.

She told me I was like him.

She told me I was no different.

She looked fucking scared of me.

I hated that. Now that the adrenaline had died down, I couldn't even be mad anymore. All I could think of was that I had scared her. I had made her think I was no better than Royce.

Emmett Fucking McCarty: Certifiable fuck-up.

I wanted to just sleep. I'd have to deal with it eventually, I knew, but I didn't want to. I was sure I had lost Rosalie, ruined everything that we had, and I didn't want to face it.

Unfortunately, I couldn't sleep, between my racing mind, and the fucking racket outside.

I peered out the window towards the front of the house and saw Rosalie down by the driveway, facing the house, her arms crossed, hair pulled back out of her face, a look of sheer annoyance plastered across her features. She was saying something to someone out of view, but I couldn't make out what it was.

I left my room, heading downstairs to the front door. I slid on my shoes before hurrying out into the cold.

"– None of your damned business, Felix," she said saying.

"I'm just sayin', I mean, it's a pretty big deal for ya to call us about someone else's car if nothing happened," a male voice answered.

"Ex-boyfriend?" another asked, and Rosalie's face fell for a second before the annoyed mask was promptly hitched back into place.

"Shut the fuck up," was her articulate reply.

"Think we hit a nerve, Demitri," the first voice remarked. "So what'd he do to ya to make ya bust his windshield? Ya know ya could always join the family at the shop. We'd take care of ya."

"Just finish up and leave," Rosalie commanded. "Have Aro call me himself to discuss payment."

I stepped off of the porch, pulling the door shut behind me. Rosalie's head whipped toward me and she looked nervous for a minute. I stepped further into the yard and looked over to the two men who were stationed by my Jeep, at the moment hoisting a new, intact windshield into place. The one closest to me clucked his tongue.

"Damn, Rosalie, doesn't he damn near break ya?"

"What the fuck are you—" I started but Rosalie interrupted me.

"They'll be gone soon, Emmett, don't worry," she said. "They work for Aro, a… friend of the family, and they agreed to fix your windshield."

Well, that's all well and good, and yay, windshield problem fixed, but I was more upset about the way they were talking to Rosalie. And furthermore, why was Rosalie at my house, fixing my windshield? I mean, yeah, technically she broke it, but none if it would've happened, if not for me.

"Rosalie," I started again, but she shook her head.

"Just go inside, Emmett," she said, her eyes never leaving the two men. "We'll talk about it later."

I figured that it was probably best to just listen to her, and returned to my room once more, but after a few more hours, Rosalie still hadn't come over. She and the men had both disappeared from the driveway, and my windshield looked just like it had before the day's events. But still, no Rosalie.

Around seven, I heard my mother leave for work. And then all hell broke loose.

"Emmett!" Rosalie shouted from downstairs, the front door slamming behind her. I nearly flew out of my room and halfway down the stairs before slowing to a stroll the rest of the way. I was determined to not let her know just how whipped I was.

She looked run-down, but otherwise unharmed.

"Who were those guys?" I asked. Okay, not the single most important question to ask, but it was a start.

"I told you, they work for a friend of the family. I can't fix glass, so I asked them to fix it as a favour," she said. "I shouldn't have broken your windshield. I'm sorry."

She looked it, too, as she walked past me, her shoulders slumped, and headed up towards my room.

"What did you mean by payment?" I asked. She shrugged.

"Usually they have me disappear some VIN numbers for them. They're not the most reputable bunch," she said. I gaped at her as she flopped down on my bed. That was so illegal it's ridiculous. "So I went up to Port Angeles with them, did a few hours work, and we're even. No big deal." I was about to tell her just how big a deal that was, when she continued. "We, however, are not quite even."

I wasn't sure how to take that. Who owed who?

"Well, we're even, I guess, but we're not okay," she amended at my confused look. "What you said… that wasn't okay, Emmett."

I ran my fingers through my short hair, trying to think of something to say. I wished, in that moment, that us being 'even' could cancel out everything and we could just move past it. But yeah, I was aware that what I had said was a low blow. Not that I hadn't meant it at the time. That was what made this so tricky.

"You compared me to Royce, babe," I said. Yup, when all else fails you, point the finger at someone else, Emmett. Real nice.

"You were acting like Royce," she said calmly. "I didn't like seeing that side of you. I like the side I fell in love with. The gentle, caring, sweet, funny Emmett. You scared me."

"You know I'd never hurt you," I said, and it sounded almost pleading. She frowned, looking at the floor.

"But you did," she said. "What you said… I'd take one hundred beatings from Royce before I'd want to hear that from you."

"I'm sorry," I said. I really was. "I'm sorry that I hurt you, and that I scared you. That wasn't what I was trying to do."

"What were you trying to do?" she asked. "That's what I don't get. The whole Royce issue was over. What were you trying to prove?"

Prove? I wasn't trying to prove anything.

"He hurt you, Rosalie," I said. "I just… I care about you so much. And he hurt you. I just wanted him to feel half of what he had put you through."

"And it backfired."

"Well, yeah, you could say that," I said, smiling sheepishly. She sighed and stood up, crossing the room to meet me.

"Let it go, Emmett," she said. "It's over. He's not an issue anymore. I need you to move on, so that I can move on. So that we can move on."

"There's still a we," I observed. She rolled her eyes.

"I guess after everything, you deserve another shot. And you meant well. You're just kind of a bonehead," she teased. "And I'm sorry, too, for comparing you to Royce. You're nothing like him, and I'm so lucky that you care about me that much."

I hadn't realized a weight had settled over me until that moment, when it was lifted, and I felt tears sting my eyes. I hadn't even realized how close I had come to losing her. I hadn't let myself think about it.

"I'm sorry," I said again as her arms encircled me, her head resting against my chest. It was all I could think to say. "I'm so sorry."

She stayed with me that night, her ring back on her finger, her body tangled with mine, and I thought that nothing had felt more right in my life.

/

I let my eyes roam around Coach Clapp's office as my mom and I waited for him to finish with first period gym. The principal was also going to be present for this meeting. Although I regretted how horribly it had backfired, I still firmly believed Royce deserved everything he got, and I was ready to take whatever punishment they were going to hand to me. Mom, however, was on the edge of her seat, her leg bouncing with her nerves, checking her watch every few minutes.

There was a new trophy in place on the wrestling shelf. I guess we had won the meet, despite my debacle. That was good. It wasn't my intention to punish the whole team for my bit of revenge.

And, if Forks had won, that meant Royce's team had lost. Hah!

Coach Clapp, closely followed by Mr. Greene, the principal, entered the office within ten minutes, and my mom stood quickly, nudging me to do the same, shaking their hands.

"Well, let's jump right in, shall we?" Mr. Greene started, setting a file down on the desk. I would wonder if there was anything in it, but my school files were always fairly thin. I didn't stay in one place for long, and I didn't get in much trouble at school, so aside from grades there was very little to put in the files. "I'm sure by now we all know what happened during the wrestling match the other day, and with all due respect, we're not so much concerned with why. However, Forks High School has a zero-tolerance violence policy, which means that regardless of the reason, Emmett will be suspended for two day or a week, depending on what we decide here. The situation's complicated by the fact that, despite it being a school event, it was the weekend, and involved a student from another school. Therefore, I'm taking Emmett's clean history and Coach Clapp's testimony that Emmett has never been exceedingly violent, even as a member of a wrestling team, into consideration and recommending him for the minimum two days."

My mother nodded, looking almost relieved. No doubt what she had imagined was closer to expulsion than this, which was really just a slap on the wrists, considering.

"We would also like for Emmett to talk to the guidance counselor here at school," Coach Greene added.

"What? I don't need to talk to a guidance counselor!" I interrupted. Mom pinched me warningly and I gritted my teeth.

"That sounds reasonable," she agreed and I shot her a mutinous glare. She knew why the fight had happened, she should know I don't need a fucking shrink.

"Okay. Well then, if you could both sign this, acknowledging Emmett's suspension, you may go and Emmett may return to school on Wednesday," Mr. Greene said, sliding a form towards us. Once it was signed he separated the triplicate layers and handed the pink one to me. Great. Thanks.

/

RPOV

Emmett's fight with Royce seemed to be all people could talk about at school, and it was starting to irritate me. Seriously, some of the rumors flying around were just ridiculous.

Like the one about me two-timing with Emmett and Royce, and Emmett finding out, and driven mad with jealousy deciding to kill Royce.

Seriously, people, this isn't a soap opera.

Or, the ever popular, 'Oh, did you see how violent Emmett is? And did you see that bruise on Rosalie's face? I heard he hits her, too, and Royce found out. He's really just a victim in this."

Jesus Christ, these people are stupid.

One thing was pretty consistent, though: Emmett, it seemed, had been suspended for a few days. I went to his teachers and gathered up all of his work for the duration of his suspension, figuring that I would run it by after his mom went to work that night.

It seemed like ages before I looked outside and his mom's car was finally gone. I headed over there immediately, taking note of the fact that his bedroom light was on. I let myself in and made my way up to his room, plucking a book off of the shelf and taking my normal place on his bed to wait for him to get out of the shower.

I hadn't been reading for long when I heard something. It was quiet, and I couldn't quite pinpoint what it was. I froze, listening hard, and after a few moments, I heard it again.

It was a fucking moan. Determined not to let my mind jump to the dirtiest conclusion, I weighed the possibilities. Maybe Emmett was sick? Stress can do that to you, and the last few days – or, weeks, really – had definitely qualified as stressful. Maybe…

Nope. That's all I got. He's either sick, or jerking off.

I tiptoed over to the bathroom, pressing my ear against the door. I felt like a creeper, but at the same time, I didn't want to go in there without knowing what to expect.

"Rose…" he groaned.

Oh fuck, he is. He's jerking off.

He's jerking off thinking about me.

That's… well, honestly, that's kind of hot. I had never thought about it, and I was surprised at how much the idea appealed to me.

I turned the knob carefully, trying to stay as quiet as possible, and opened the door enough to stick my head in.

I could see Emmett's silhouette through the steam-covered glass shower door, his head thrown back, his arm stretched out in front of him, supporting his weight against the shower wall, his other hand fisting his cock.

"Fuck," he hissed.

Fuck is right, I thought, my eyes wide, my heart pounding hard.

Emmett froze, his head turning toward the door.

Did I say that out loud? I wondered, suddenly panicking. He turned, shut the water off, and held still. I tried not to breathe. I was caught, in that moment. I couldn't leave and close the door, or he'd hear me. He'd see me, no getting around that. But what was I supposed to say?

"Oh, yeah, uh, I came over to bring you homework and heard you moaning my name so I came to investigate"? I somehow didn't think so.

"Rosalie?" he asked hesitantly.

"Hmm?" I said, blushing.

"Oh fuck!" he exclaimed, sounding relieved. "I thought Mom might've just walked in on that! Fuck, why didn't you say something?" He was laughing now, deep, easy laughter. He wasn't embarrassed? Well, I guess it's nothing I hadn't seen, but hell, I'd be embarrassed in that situation!

"Sorry, I'll just uh… let you finish," I said as the shower door slid open and Emmett peered out, grinning wickedly at me.

"Uh-uh," he said, shaking his head. "Join me."

"Join you?" I asked, surprised.

"Fuck, babe, don't act so damn naïve," he chuckled. I tried to pull myself out of the surprise of the request and stepped into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. He kept watching me as I took off my jacket.

"Are you going to watch me?" I asked.

"Of course I'm going to watch you!" he exclaimed and I blushed. Why was I so shy all of a sudden? This wasn't anywhere near my first time with Emmett. But we had never… watched each other like this. It felt a hundred times more exposing. I shook that thought off and stripped quickly before joining him in the shower.

Immediately he bent down, wrapping his arms around me and bringing his lips to mine. The water clinging to his skin had cooled and felt like ice against mine, causing me to gasp. He chuckled and took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, stroking my tongue with his as his fingers tangled in my hair, cupping the back of my head.

My knees were beginning to feel weak. Emmett always had that effect on me. I shivered, both from the anticipation and the cooled water, and Emmett finally broke away to start the shower again. He pinned me against the wall as soon as he was done.

"What were you thinking, babe?" he asked, his voice husky. "When you realized what I was doing, what did you think?"

I blushed, unable to answer. Something about this situation was robbing me of words. Emmett chuckled at my silence and rocked his hips forward slightly, pressing his hard cock against my thigh. I let out of a low moan.

"You would not believe how often I do this, just thinking of you," he continued, and a whimper escaped my lips. "Every time I see you, or even just think of you, I want you."

Oh, my God.

"Do you touch yourself, Rosalie?" he asked, nipping lightly at my neck. I blushed again. "Do you ever touch yourself thinking about me?"

I nodded, still unable to speak.

"Bad girl," he chuckled. "Why don't you show me, babe?" I gasped. Was he really suggesting… "Show me how you touch yourself when you think about me."

I whimpered as he pulled away, looking at me hungrily. I wasn't sure what to do. I was a little embarrassed at the idea of doing this in front of Emmett. At the same time, it was like he had started a fire inside of me that had settled right between my legs, and I was having a hard time ignoring it.

"Show me, babe," he rasped. I closed my eyes, willing myself to pretend he wasn't here, that he wasn't watching me, that I was in my own shower at home, imagining him. I started at my neck, one hand splayed against my thigh as the other traveled from my neck, down my chest, lightly, to caress my breasts. I let out a small sigh as my fingers brushed my sensitive nipple, before pinching them lightly between my thumb and pointer finger, a quiet moan falling from my lips.

I heard Emmett swear softly, but it didn't register as my other hand moved up my thigh, towards my center. My mind was working overtime. I was both aware that Emmett was standing there with me, not touching me, and imagining his hands moving over me, his mouth teasing my breast, his hand cupping my mound, pressing, putting pressure where I needed it most. I groaned, letting my head fall back as I swept one finger through my folds, teasing my entrance and clit lightly for a minute. Emmett moaned, and my eyes fluttered open to see him, leaning against the opposite wall, his hand once more fisted around his cock, his eyes on my hands.

"Fuck, babe," he hissed. I was getting more comfortable with this. Seeing his reaction to it made me feel fucking sexy, and somehow powerful. Emboldened, I thrust one finger into my core as my other hand came down to rub at my clit. I cried out, imagining Emmett fingering me, that image blurring with the real one of him jerking himself, watching me.

Between the two images, I wasn't going to last long, but that didn't matter. After a few more moments, Emmett's hands were on mine, yanking them away as his lips found mine, swallowing my groan of frustration.

"Fuck, Rosalie, I have to have you," he ground out, reaching over to turn the water off before picking me up and practically running from the bathroom. He tossed me onto the bed and jumped on after me, covering me quickly and kissing me again. "God damn, babe, you're so fucking sexy," he groaned, reaching down and sliding his own fingers through my folds. "Fuck," he hissed. "So fucking wet."

I bucked against his hand, trying to find that friction he had taken from me. He backed away long enough to reach into his bedside drawer for a condom.

"I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't walk straight for a week," he promised in a growl.

"Please, Emmett," I gasped, finally finding a way to form words. He grinned, rolling the condom on and then quickly flipping us so that I was on top.

"Fucking ride me."

I complied, holding his cock steady to sink down onto it, more aware in this position than any other of the full, stretching sensation as he pushed into me. I cried out as he immediately hit a spot deep inside of me that made my toes curl.

It took me a minute to find my rhythm, but soon we had created a steady pace of rise-and-fall, thrust-and-retreat. Every few thrusts he'd hit that spot and I'd scream, unable to stop myself from slamming my hips down to press my clit against his pelvic bone, shuddering from the sensations.

He held me on the edge for what felt like hours with that rhythm, and by the time he finally pushed me over it, I was nearly crying from the delicious torture of it. He sat up, pushing me down and thrusting harder, faster, and finally I screamed his name as my world shattered and came back together all on one long, drawn out, perfect moment.

Emmett followed right after me, shuddering and thrusting softly as he rode out his orgasm, before he pulled out and collapsed, half on top of me, careful not to crush me. I was trembling. That had probably been the most intense orgasm I had ever experienced.

"Fuck," Emmett sighed between heavy breaths.

"Yeah," I agreed with a laugh.

I stayed over again, cuddled with Emmett until I absolutely had to leave to get ready for school. Things seemed almost back to normal, and I couldn't be happier.

/

AN: I'm not really happy with ending the chapter there, but it was already over 5k words, so I figured it was as good a place as any. Thank you all so much for your feedback on the last chapter. I hope this one was satisfactory. But you're going to let me know in a review, aren't you?

A note on the lemon: That was my first ever mutual masturbation scene, so please be gentle? Sorry if it sucked.

Can't wait to hear from you! :D